


Good Luc in Skyrim

by ChristineThalassinou1990



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark Brotherhood (Elder Scrolls) - Freeform, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gore, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Luc Definitely Has PTSD, Male Friendship, Nightmares, OOC Mercer, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Astrid, Protective Brynjolf, Thieves Guild, Thieves Guild (Elder Scrolls) - Freeform, and I mean it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:53:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27051472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChristineThalassinou1990/pseuds/ChristineThalassinou1990
Summary: The tale of the definitely-not-the-Dragonborn Luc and his various struggles in the vast, beautiful land of Skyrim. When he's 17, he flees Bruma and crosses the border to Skyrim, hoping to find a happier life there. Well, he does find a very different kind of life, but being a member of the Dark Brotherhood is never without any risk.Non-Dragonborn Imperial protagonist, no civil war.The title is from my dear friend Alex; thank you so much, dearie <3.
Relationships: Brynjolf & Mercer Frey, Mercer Frey & Vex
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sickmuse23](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sickmuse23/gifts).



> This story is purely inspired by me wreaking havoc on Skyrim in my free time, and my imagination that likes filling the holes in my gameplay. Therefore, it can happen that my protagonist is not a mighty hero or a genius Gary Stu, and when I say that someone's gonna be OOC, by the Deadra, I mean it. As of now, at the 8th chapter being more or less ready, it's only Mercer yet, but I think it's safer to say it right here: he's not going to be the 1-bit asshole we see in the Guild questline. So if it, in any shape or form, is a problem for you, I kindly ask you to search for something else to read.  
> Thank you, and enjoy!
> 
> First chapter here is the first & the second chapter in my own document.

After almost seventeen years of relentless suffering, Luc decided to leave. He'd spent all of his life in Bruma, barely ever stepping out of the city's gate, however, he always wanted to know what's outside in the world around him. And now, after taking a brutal beating from his older brother, Luc reached the conclusion that leaving was the best option for him.

When he was sure that everybody in the house – his father and three siblings – were fast asleep, he got up, trying his best to do so quietly, although, his hurting body made it almost impossible. Luc was pretty sure he had at least two cracked ribs and his left wrist was throbbing painfully, he couldn't use his left hand at all. Somehow, he still managed to pack a few things and leave the house without waking anyone up. As a last vengeful act, Luc stole his brother's coin purse, stuffed with gold; at least he had some money for food and other things.

The city's two huge main gates were closed for the night but Luc knew a place on the northern wall where he could climb through; however, with his injured hand, it seemed like outright suicide. He had to come up with something else.

When a group of guards came inside through the eastern side gate from their turn of patrolling, Luc slid out past them in the shadows, and in a minute, he was outside of the city where he'd spent his whole life, knowing that he wouldn't be coming back, ever. He looked around then decided to go north, hoping that he'd eventually get far enough from Bruma for his so called family to forget him forever.

Luc didn't know what good life was; he'd lost his mother before his first birthday, and his father and three older siblings were all abusive toward him on some level. He assumed that in a way, they were blaming him for his mother's death, since she'd got sick and died eventually not long after Luc was born. It seemed that these two events, whether they were connected or not, somehow became cause and effect in his family's collective subconscious, turning them against him. Luc lived his life mostly as an outcast, being careful to be at 'home' as little as possible. As soon as he was old enough to work, he took almost any kind of jobs he came across, be it a stable boy or a vendor's assistant in one of the shops. More often than not, his father or brother forced him to give his earnings to them, still, he could save some of it for himself as well.

A few years ago, he picked up the habit of hiding in the city's cathedral, where he met a kind priest who'd taught him to read and write, so Luc found a new source of happiness in the form of books. He was pretty sure that it helped a lot to keep his sanity more or less intact. The priest, Martin, was in fact the only person he felt some regret to leave behind, but he hoped he'd understand, since Martin was aware of his less than ideal circumstances. Maybe he'd write him a letter or something.

Luc sighed, pulling his cloak tighter around himself against the chilly night. There was no turning back now, so he continued his way north on the narrow path leading amongst the mountains.

*

By morning, Luc was barely dragging himself. His untreated injuries were screaming for attention, he was cold, hungry and exhausted, and he didn't see a single soul on the road behind or ahead of him. He was alone, not knowing at all when and where he could find help; he almost regretted leaving Bruma... almost. Freezing to death was still more peaceful and less painful than being beaten to death. So he gritted his teeth and went on, however, the pain caused by his injuries became worse with every passing hour.

Perhaps in the last possible moment before passing out, he arrived at a small tavern next to the road. He stumbled inside, barely holding himself upright.

"What can I do for you?" the inn-keeper, a man in his sixties, asked, his voice both worried and a bit suspicious.

"I need a room... And a healer" Luc answered, although, he felt like even speaking was tiring him out further.

"Why, of course... follow me." Luc did so, and the inn-keeper led him into a small but clean and comfortable room. "I'll send someone soon" he promised as Luc all but collapsed on the bed, already half-asleep; by now, only the worry remained in his voice.

Before Luc could've fallen asleep completely, a female Khajiit stepped inside his room after a polite knock on the door.

"How can I help you?" she asked with the strange accent seemingly all Khajiit had when speaking the common tongue.

Luc did his best to remain awake at least while the healer was there. He tried to sit up but it was too much, both because of the pain in his side and his exhaustion, so he fell back on the bed, groaning loudly.

"Got beaten up yesterday... I think something's broken..." he muttered, fighting hard to keep his eyes open.

"I see. Now relax, kitten" the Khajiit nodded, and soon Luc fell into a deep slumber, completely free of pain, after the healer used both her healing magic and a healing potion that was a painkiller and sedative as well.

When he woke up somewhere around evening, he still found the Khajiit healer in the tavern, so he took the chance to pay her.

"Thank you for everything" he smiled at her, and she smiled back, however, that was a pretty scary sight on her cat-like face.

"No problem. Khajiit is always ready to help" she answered.

"Where are you going to from here?" Luc asked, hungry for some communication with somebody who didn't hate him.

"When my caravan arrives here, we travel to Skyrim. We'll stop in every major city, then go to Morrowind perhaps" she shrugged.

"Can I travel with you for a while?" Luc pleaded, seeing the perfect opportunity to leave his previous, miserable life behind for good.

"I'm not against it, but you have to speak about that with the others as well."

Two days later, Luc was on his way to another province, ready to begin anew.

_Ten years later_

Luc had to go back to Bruma, and he wasn't happy about that at all. However, a contract was a contract, and as a yet relatively low ranking member of the Dark Brotherhood, he couldn't really defy the orders of his superiors. So he just packed without a word and on the next day, he was on his way back to Bruma; for the first time in a decade.

The last ten years were undoubtedly more interesting and less perilous than his life before his leaving.

First, he ended up in Solitude when the Khajiit caravan he'd been travelling with stopped there. Luc decided to stay in the city for a while and joined the Bard College; music always interested him. For a few years, everything seemed to be going well, he learned fast and proved to be quite talented, but then one day, his dormant cruel tendencies came to light when a bunch of other students began bullying him for fun. Luc, who'd suffered bullying and abuse for almost his entire life, just couldn't take it anymore and snapped; very much so. One of the students antagonizing him ended up with a broken jaw and nose from a vicious blow, and another with a few knocked out teeth and cracked ribs. Luc could hit very hard when he was angry enough for it, and that time he was, more than enough so. The only thing saved those students from something much worse was that one of their instructor noticed what was going on and knocked Luc out with a well-aimed shock spell. As soon as he recovered enough from his injuries, the College expelled him without any chance of parole.

In the years after that, he mostly wandered around in the northern part of Skyrim, taking any kind of jobs he had some affinity to do: stable boy, shop assistant, courier, cook, hunter. Then he arrived at Winterhold and applied to the College, hoping that he could learn some magic as well. Here, he barely lasted a year before something hauntingly similar to the events in the Bard College happened. Here, Luc had beaten up an arrogant high elf so brutally that he later died of his injuries; however, Luc didn't even know it for a very long time.

After that incident, he'd fled Winterhold, and not much later, the Dark Brotherhood found him and took him in, teaching him how to use that rage and pain in him to his own advantage. He became a skilled unarmed fighter, and he was deadly with both a normal and a crossbow. Still, his favourite weapon was his good old quarterstaff he'd been using since the first days in the Bard College. It never failed him in trouble.

When Luc walked across the main gate of Bruma, a whole bunch of unwelcome memories raised their ugly heads about hunger, beatings, and fearful days, but he pushed them back into the deepest, darkest pits of his mind. He couldn't afford to fail this mission; Astrid would skin him alive for sure if he screwed it up.

Since he still had a few hours until midnight, when he was supposed to meet his contact for the job, he decided to take a walk in the city, to see what had changed since he'd left. He was careful to keep his hood up to hide his face in shadows; the last thing he needed was some idiot who might recognize him, despite the fact that now he had a short, neat dark beard and shaved his head, however, his silvery-grey eyes were still a giveaway. Others seemed to recognize him mostly from his eyes. Not that he couldn't have dealt with the people here, one way or another, he just didn't want to. No one had ever helped him when he needed it the most, no one protected him. He felt nothing but contempt toward this city and its people.

Eventually, he retreated into the chapel of Talos in the eastern part of the city. Before leaving, this was his favourite place here, the only place in Bruma where he felt truly safe, even if only for a little while. That was the place where he learnt how to read and write, thanks to a kind priest named Martin; Luc wondered if he was still here. However tempting it felt for a moment, he resisted the urge to seek Martin out. It wouldn't have ended well, with him now being a member of the Dark Brotherhood. Luc didn't want to endanger Martin's life; he was the only one in this city who at least cared about him enough to do some good to him. So he just settled on one of the benches in the back of the chapel and pretended to be lost in his thoughts, although, he was just dozing lightly; the journey here was long and tiring.

"Luc?"

He jerked awake, almost falling off the bench he was sitting on.

"What...?!" he groaned, looking around sleepily; and his gaze landed on a priest standing next to him.

Even thought they hadn't met for a decade, Luc recognized him immediately. Martin hadn't changed much, he still had his mane of half-long brown hair, kind black eyes and reassuring smile. And like a decade ago, his mere presence was enough to make Luc feel safe.

"It's good to see you again" Martin said. "May I sit with you?"

Luc just nodded, moving aside so Martin had enough space to settle next to him.

"I'm glad you're okay" he muttered, and the priest smiled at him kindly.

"Thank Talos, I am. But what about you? Where have you been? What happened to you? Why did you leave so suddenly?" Martin asked, and his concern was strangely touching; and the next thing Luc knew was that he was telling the priest everything that happened since he'd left Bruma.

Fortunately, he could make himself stop before confessing the Dark Brotherhood part as well, but he did tell everything about his misfortune in Solitude and Winterhold. Martin just listened to him, without any kind of judgement, and to be honest, Luc appreciated that. He didn't need anyone to remind him how screwed up and miserable he really was. He knew it perfectly well.

"I'm afraid I have to go" Luc said when he realized that it was near midnight; he didn't even notice how much time passed while he was speaking with Martin.

The priest was a great partner for long, pleasant conversations.

"May Talos bless you on your path" Martin said as a farewell. "I hope to see you again soon."

Luc just forced a smile but didn't answer, then he left the chapel to search for his contact and hopefully get this job done quickly.


	2. Chapter 2

Astrid told him when he left the sanctuary that the contact for this job was supposed to wait for him at the most eastern part of Bruma, far from anyone trying to spy on them. Stepping out of the chapel, Luc walked near the city wall, following it in a comfortable pace; the meeting spot was just a few minutes of walk away, he wasn't late at all.

However, not a few seconds later, when he was about to step out of the shadow of the last building he passed by, something heavy fell on him, knocking the air out of him. As it turned out, it was not something; it was someone.

Luc groaned loudly, trying to get back to his feet, simultaneously kicking in the general direction of his attacker. The kick made contact but it only earned him a bone cracking punch in the ribs. Red-hot pain made him dizzy for a moment, but he didn't give up and smashed his elbow into the other's stomach, finally breaking free of his dire situation.

"You little shit!" Luc heard, and the voice made his blood run cold.

He knew this voice, knew it all too well. It belonged to his brother, the very person who chased him away from Bruma a decade ago.

"You should've never come back."

Luc agreed with that statement wholeheartedly, however, he had no intention to discuss it with anybody, let alone with someone he hated with every fibre of his being. So he didn't say a thing just prepared to fight, as he assumed, for his life. There was no way his brother was willing to let him walk away alive after attacking him so viciously.

Luc was much better at unarmed fight than he was ten years ago, but now, being tired and injured, he didn't see an easy way out of this situation. He could've used magic but it would've only caused quite a stir in the neighbourhood, and he wanted to avoid attention at all costs. So it only left the option of fight.

"What the hell are you doing here, in the middle of the night?" he asked, trying to buy some time and figure out how to deal with the situation as fast and effectively as he could.

"That's not your business, scum. However, you're definitely in the way of my business" came the reply, and the next thing Luc knew was a fist smashing into his face.

As he frantically backtracked, hiding his bleeding nose into his hands, suddenly and out of nothing, an arrow sped by his right ear, missing it only by an inch or two, then smashing into his brother's chest, knocking him off his feet. He was dead before hitting the ground completely.

"Well... I can't say I don't appreciate this scenery, in fact it's one of the most beautiful things I've seen in the last few years, still, it would be a much more satisfying knowledge that I did it..." Luc mused, but he was obviously not angry.

He wiped his nose as he turned toward the archer's assumed position; fortunately, the bleeding subsided but the pain was still there.

"It wouldn't have been too entertaining to watch as this asshole beats the shit out of you" came the answer, and a second later, another Dark Brotherhood member showed up, stopping a few steps away from Luc. "Are you okay?"

The newcomer was a bit taller than Luc, a Nord in his mid-thirties with broad shoulders and strong, lithe body fitting a lethal assassin. He had jetblack hair and beautiful blue eyes, however, his hood hid them in deep shadows.

"Yeah... Just a cracked rib, I think. What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you were on a mission."

"Done with it long ago" the other, Michele, shrugged; he was the deadliest archer in the whole Brotherhood, or, as Luc assumed, more likely on the whole continent of Tamriel. "And it didn't seem like a good idea to send you back here, so I decided to come, too, in case anything happens. And I was right. By any chance, you know who that idiot was?"

At first, Luc didn't want to answer but he quickly realized that it wouldn't have done any good if he kept potentially dangerous secrets from the Brotherhood. Astrid didn't really tolerate the members messing around about jobs.

"My brother" Luc said, turning away and continuing his way to the meeting spot.

Michele was clever enough not to ask more; he only knew that Luc fled Bruma because of the abuse he suffered in his family, and his most vicious tormentor was his brother. Not that Michele felt any remorse killing that asshole, but that knowledge just added to his satisfaction. That idiot deserved to die.

Meanwhile, they reached the place Luc was supposed to meet with his contact, but nobody was there, and nobody showed up in the next half an hour either.

"Maybe he's just late. Or got cold feet and hides under his blanket in his bed" Michele shrugged when Luc shared his worries with him.

"Maybe. But what if...?"

"If what?"

"What if... it was my brother? He was waiting pretty nearby, after all. Perhaps it was just a coincidence he attacked me, simply because I was passing by, and he didn't even think that I am the person he was waiting for? And... he said that I'm 'in the way of his business'" Luc explained, and he couldn't shake off the gut feeling that he was right. _That's my damn luck_ , he thought desperately; Astrid would surely skin him alive for this.

"Even if he was your man... He attacked you, and I was the one who killed him. You've done nothing wrong, and even Astrid will accept the fact of self defence. How about getting back to the sanctuary and speak with her about this? Perhaps it'd turn out that it was just a misunderstanding, and the contact just got too scared to actually meet you" Michele offered, and having no better idea, Luc accepted it.

After a last look at the chapel and the city he knew so well for so long, he followed Michele to the nearest gate and they left Bruma behind; Luc hoped that this time, it was truly forever.


	3. Chapter 3

Luc and Michele spent the rest of the night and a part of the next day in a small, friendly inn near Bruma. Luc needed the time to heal up some, and, as Michele claimed, he could use a nice long sleep as well.

"How's your rib?" Michele asked after their meagre lunch of bread, cheese, and some wine.

"Much better. Thanks for the potion" Luc answered with a nervous smile; he still wasn't too enthusiastic about the prospect of going home and telling everything to Astrid, but he simply had no choice.

They screwed up the job, so they had to deal with the consequences.

*

"Oh boy..." Astrid sighed, glaring at Luc and Michele with blazing eyes; she was obviously annoyed with them, but she wasn't as angry as Luc expected she would be after hearing their story. It seemed like a good sign.

They were in Astrid's office, deep inside the Falkreath Sanctuary's cave system; which was the safest place Luc had ever known in his life.

"What should I do with you?" she went on, looking menacingly between her subordinates.

Astrid never hesitated to punish failure and dangerous mistakes, but she wasn't cruel to them. Everything she did or said had a reason, and it was much easier to accept punishment when the person receiving it knew why he got it in the first place.

"Michele... I think it'll do you some good if you just train the novices for a while. A month or two will suffice" Astrid decided, and Michele groaned painfully but knew better than to contradict, so he just left the office without a word, resigned to his fate.

Luc would've laughed at his misery if he wasn't so nervous about his own punishment. He wasn't eager to clean the kitchen for months, for example.

"What's done is done" Astrid said, as if she'd read his thoughts. "It's unfortunate, and definitely won't serve the Brotherhood's reputation, but we can't help it now."

"I'm sorry" Luc muttered. "I didn't mean to screw this up."

"I know you didn't" Astrid reassured him. "Go, have a meal, you look hungry."

Luc obeyed, relieved that he got away without any repercussion. He'd noticed earlier that Astrid tended to treat him in a somewhat kinder way than the others. Not that she was hurting anybody just for fun, but toward Luc, she was genuinely caring, much like an older sister, the kind he never had. Luc thought that it was due to the circumstances in which he ended up here: after fleeing Winterhold, he was hiding near Dawnstar, and when he attempted to steal some food, the guards who caught him didn't waste their time with asking just beat him almost to death. That was when Astrid intervened, saving him from certain death and nursing him back to health in a nearby, well-hidden shack. After this, it wasn't a hard decision for Luc to join the Brotherhood; at least they cared about him enough not to let him die.

"Well, what did she come up with for you?" Michele asked when Luc joined him in the spacious dining hall of the sanctuary.

He was at the end of his own meal but stayed with Luc while the younger assassin nibbled on his food, and Luc appreciated the company.

"Nothing. She just told me to eat something" he shrugged. "But I have a feeling that she'll soon figure something out."

*

Luc didn't sleep well that night, and strangely enough, not even his utter exhaustion after a sparring session with Nazir helped the matter. Usually, if he went to bed dead tired, he could sleep through the night – or day – without any disturbance, but for some reason, the nightmares found him this time regardless. Michele woke him up from them twice, claiming that he was whimpering and stirring in his sleep, but Luc couldn't tell what he was dreaming about.

"Do you want something for better sleep?" Michele asked the second time.

That sounded very tempting, but then Luc just shook his head, curling up under his blanket again. He could avoid substance abuse until now, despite the massive shitstorms he'd been through during his life, and he absolutely had no intention to change this now.

"I'm fine" he muttered into his pillow, closing his eyes.

Michele squeezed his shoulder comfortingly, then Luc heard him walking out of the small dormitory, leaving him alone in the darkness. The Falkreath Sanctuary had four rooms to accommodate the Brotherhood members, each with five beds. For most of the time, it was more than enough, and now Luc slept alone in one of the rooms. He didn't really mind that, to be honest.

After some time, he managed to sleep back, but it seemed that quality rest was something too much to ask tonight. It was Astrid who woke him up this time, and she must've had a hard time doing so, for she even slapped him once, constantly talking to him and calling him by his name.

"It's okay, you're safe" she said when Luc jerked awake, sitting up and looking around in panic. "No one's gonna hurt you. You're perfectly safe here."

Her tone was deliberately even and calm, yet the strength in her voice was unquestionable, and it gave Luc the anchor he needed to think past his mindless fear and realize that he was indeed safe, and there was no immediate danger here, in the sanctuary. He only had friends in this place.

When Astrid saw that he knew where and with whom he was, she moved closer and hugged him protectively. Instantly, she felt Luc all but melting into the embrace, shivering badly as the adrenaline left his system.

"Are you okay?" she asked, but Luc could only nod, resting his head on her shoulder; he felt completely spent and exhausted, and the hug was utterly soothing and comforting.

He wanted to enjoy it as long as he could.

"I'm fine" he sighed at last, pulling back from the embrace slowly; he didn't really want to, but he knew way too well that Astrid's patience had its limits.

"I heard you screaming... you sounded awfully desperate. What were you dreaming about?" Astrid inquired, and Luc could tell that she was equally curious and worried.

"I don't remember..." he shrugged helplessly, leaning back against the stone wall behind him.

All he wanted was a few hours of calm sleep, without these scary as hell nightmares; the only thing he remembered was the choking, hopeless fear he felt in these dreams. Astrid just looked at him thoughtfully, and even in the dim light pouring into the room from the hallway, Luc could see the concern on her face.

"It seems that this last job's upset you quite a bit" she murmured, lost in her thoughts. "So it might do you some good if you did something else for a while... How about helping out the Thieves Guild in Riften for a few months? As I heard, they have some problem with the Imperial Guard. Would you like it?"

Luc thought about it a bit then nodded.

"Yeah, why not? But... could Michele come with me?"

"Very well" Astrid sighed. "Try to rest now. You'll leave tomorrow."


	4. Chapter 4

"I can't thank you enough for saving me from the initiates" Michele said as he and Luc were saddling their horses next afternoon, preparing for departure.

The stables of the sanctuary were near to the cave entrance, in a small, well-hidden valley. Luc liked that place, he'd spent many hours with the horses, grooming them carefully, and giving them the best apples he could find.

Hearing Michele's comment, Luc just smiled tiredly but didn't answer; eventually, he managed to get a few hours of undisturbed sleep in the morning, but it wasn't enough. He hoped that the change of the environment would help with this issue.

"If I may correct: you can't thank _me_ enough for agreeing to you going with Luc" Astrid interrupted, but there was a faint smile in the corners of her mouth.

"Yes, of course" Michele nodded then turned away to hide his grin.

Astrid just shook her head fondly, then she stepped to Luc and with an unexpected move, she hugged him tight. Luc was adequately surprised but returned the gesture willingly.

"Take care, both of you" she said and after a last affectionate squeeze, she let go, stepping back. "Travel safely."

"We will" Michele assured her, and Astrid nodded.

Luc was wondering why the archer didn't get a hug as well, but Michele seemed unbothered by that. He just nodded back to Astrid then hauled himself up into the saddle, nudging his pale brown horse toward the road. Luc followed the example, getting on his jetblack horse quickly, and after a last smile, he trotted after the other assassin. When he looked back a minute later, Astrid had already disappeared.

"You two are suspiciously close to each other" Michele commented with a playful glint in his eyes.

"Well, she saved my life, maybe this has something to do with it" Luc shrugged. "But she's more like a sister to me, I'm not attracted to her or anything."

"I see" Michele nodded thoughtfully.

A few hours went by without any of them saying too much. They were careful to avoid using the main road as much as possible; the last thing they needed was a way too nosy Imperial patrol. When night fell, the temperature dropped significantly, so much that they saw their breath in the air.

"We should camp for the night" Michele suggested, rubbing his hands together, and Luc nodded in agreement.

"Fine."

They left the vicinity of the road to find a more or less protected place, and soon stopped at a small glade between the woods.

"That should do" Luc muttered, glancing around. Michele got the fire going while he put together their small travel tent that was barely enough for both of them.

"Are you hungry?" the archer asked but Luc shook his head; he was just tired. "Then go to sleep, I'll stay here and kill everything that comes too close."

Luc didn't contradict, he curled up on the bedroll, pulling the blanket tight around himself, enjoying the warmth of the campfire on his face. Soon, the noises of the night lulled him into a deep slumber.

*

The next few days were pleasantly uneventful, and Luc's issues with sleeping seemed to improve as well. Michele had to wake him up only twice since they'd been travelling, and Luc could sleep back quickly after that. However, their luck ran out on the fifth day, when they stumbled upon a whole nest of frostbite spiders. They hoped they could circumvent the nest and continue on their way, but that hope quickly died out.

"Oh, shit" Michele breathed, turning his horse around, but he was too late.

The spiders spotted them and began chasing them relentlessly; and they were much faster than the horses. Moreover, these creatures had a very annoying habit of spitting poison on their prey from afar, weakening them so much that they had no chance to escape.

Luc saw from the corner of his eye that Michele turned back and released an arrow at the spider nearest to them, effectively killing it, but it only made the rest even more furious. One of the spiders spat a healthy dose of vomit-green poison in the archer's direction, but it only hit the horse under him. Poor animal stumbled then fell, and Michele flew out of the saddle, crashing into the ground a few meters away. A painful groan escaped him, still, he jumped on his feet almost instantly, bow and arrows ready to kill. Two of the spiders stopped to fight over the horse, thus giving the chance to Michele to shoot them, which he took immediately. However, the three remaining spiders caught up to them, and one of them jumped at Luc, sweeping him down to the ground. His horse neighed loudly, frightened, galloping away. He couldn't afford to care right now, though, first, he had to get rid of his attacker.

The spider was heavy, and worse, its stench was awful. Luc delivered a devastating kick at its mid-section, and it made contact, prompting the spider to backtrack some. That was enough for Luc to get to his feet, but the damn arachnid attacked again almost instantly. He was still a bit dizzy from the fall so he retreated frantically to create some space and chance to get himself together. While backing off, he reached for his lithe, elegant ebony dagger and conjured a fireball into his free left hand.

The sight of fire apparently made the spider mad with fury. It let out a high-pitched, screeching sound that made Luc's head hurt and jumped at him again. Luc let the fireball loose, it smashed into the spider, but didn't really affect it. Luc couldn't avoid the second attack, and the spider bit viciously into his reflexively raised arm. The pain and the weakening, nauseating effect of the poison together were almost unbearable, still, he found the strength somehow to smash his dagger into the arachnid's head, right between its many eyes.

The spider was dead in a split second, and Luc could yank his arm free, but after a couple of shaky steps, he collapsed, shivering violently. He saw Michele killing the last spider, but his vision was blurry and black spots danced before his eyes. Frostbite spider venom wasn't outright deadly, but it depended on how much the victim was injected with. Enough of that stuff could easily kill humans, and Luc had no idea how much he'd got of it. He felt awful, that much was sure.

Soon, Michele appeared before his watering eyes and helped him to sit up. Luc leant against him, feeling too weak even to raise his head.

"Don't worry, you'll be okay. You'll be okay" Michele murmured, trying to comfort both Luc and himself, at least Luc had this particular feeling, however, he couldn't tell why. "Just drink these."

Luc obeyed, drinking the two potions; one of them was to negate the poison in his system, and the other was a healing potion. In a few minutes, they took effect, and Luc began feeling better. The nausea and the blurry vision were gone, and the ugly torn wound on his arm disappeared as well. However, he still felt weak, so while Michele went to catch his fugitive horse, Luc just sat on the ground, looking around, still somewhat dazed.

Michele's horse was dead, one of the spiders managed to tear into its side, and the poor animal bled out while they were fighting. Fortunately, Michele got back Luc's horse, and after he got his saddle-bags from the dead animal's corpse, he helped Luc up on the Friesian's back.

"You won't fall off, right?" the archer asked, ready to climb behind Luc and keep him in the saddle if needed.

"Don't think so..." Luc muttered, shaking his head.

"Okay. Just tell me if you're too tired or anything, and we'll find a place to camp."

Luc nodded, and Michele grabbed the reins, leading the horse in a comfortable pace.

By afternoon, they reached Helgen, and Michele quickly found the small tavern in the settlement. They left Luc's horse in the stable and went inside. The archer rented a room, and only moments after they got comfortable, Luc fell asleep, curled up into a tight ball on his bed. Michele thought about waking him up and making him eat something, but then he changed his mind and just covered his sleeping friend with an extra blanket. After a last glance, he left the room to get them some food.


	5. Chapter 5

When Michele got back into the room with some soup and bread for Luc, the younger assassin was still sleeping. One part of Michele wanted to let him, but the other knew that Luc needed to eat something.

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead! It's dinner-time" he called, but Luc's only answer was some whimpering as he buried his head deeper into the pillow.

Michele sighed, shaking his shoulder gently. Slowly, and definitely grudgingly, Luc was finally willing to open his eyes, looking questioningly at the other.

"What...?" he murmured, dazed and disoriented.

Michele was getting a bit worried. Luc was pale, still weak, and as it turned out, his appetite was terrible as well; he could barely eat the half of the food Michele got him.

"Well, that's not good" he muttered to himself, watching Luc snuggling back into the bed and curling up under his blankets.

A minute later, he was asleep again. Michele could only hope that by morning, he'd be better.

*

In the middle of the night, Michele woke to Luc's restless, miserable whimpering. The archer thought that it was just another bad dream, but when he got up and sneaked to the other's bed, to his surprise, Luc was awake; more or less at least.

"Hey... you okay?" Michele asked quietly, sitting down beside Luc.

The younger assassin shook his head, as much as his position allowed it, and pulled his blankets tighter around himself. Michele spotted his shivering even in the dim light of the two candles that were burning on the small table in the corner.

"C-c-cold..."

Michele went to search for a spare blanket in the wardrobe and tucked Luc in carefully with it. Luc pulled the blankets tight around himself, hiding under them as deeply as he possibly could.

"Great... Just what we need right now" Michele sighed when touching Luc's face, he felt it much warmer than usual. "What else do you feel? Anything hurts?"

Luc shook his head again, and that gave the older assassin some relief. Most probably, Luc was just too spent after their misadventure with the frost spiders, and he needed rest.

"I'm t-thirsty..." came Luc's weak whisper again, and Michele looked around for something he could give to his sick friend.

He only saw a bottle of wine, but that didn't seem like a good choice for a feverish person.

"I'll be right back" the archer said and went to get a jug of water and a cup.

After giving Luc some water, Michele sat down on his own bed, thinking hard about what he should do in this situation. He wasn't a nursing type at all, that's why he was more than eager to flee from the sanctuary and avoid his punishment of training the initiates; and yet, here he was, taking care of a sick Brotherhood member. Luc himself was quiet, not asking for anything since the cup of water, a tight ball curled into the blankets, but Michele couldn't shake off the feeling that he should do more. It just didn't feel right that he was just chilling while Luc was unwell.

"Do you need anything else?" he asked, but Luc just shook his head.

Michele thought for a while then asked again.

"Are you warm enough?"

Nod.

"Okay... Feel free to wake me up if you need me" the archer said, settling down to sleep some more.

Luc slept back soon as well, but the fever didn't help the matter of bad dreams at all. By the morning, he'd suffered at least three of them, and as was usual, he didn't remember them upon waking.

"How about breakfast?" Michele asked when he woke Luc up the third time.

It was late morning, judged by the lights, and the archer was in fact pretty hungry.

"Sounds good..." Luc muttered into his pillow, but he sounded so awfully tired that Michele feared he'd sleep back before he could even leave the room.

"Okay, I'll get something. Try to stay awake, will you?"

Luc just nodded, hiding deeper under the blankets; his fever lessened some during the night, but his temperature still wasn't normal. He needed two more days to fully recover, but after that, he and Michele continued their journey to Riften.


	6. Chapter 6

"Nice little city..." Michele muttered when they arrived in Riften in the wee hours of morning.

Everything smelled like dawn, rain and fish, and thick fog made it difficult to see too far.

"Have you ever been here?" Luc asked, and the other shook his head.

"Still better than the initiates, though" Michele shrugged.

They didn't waste their time and went to the Ragged Flagon, the underground tavern the Thieves Guild used as a base. It was located in the sewers of Riften named the Ratway. Luc had to admit that it was a fitting name; the sewers were narrow, dark, damp, and crawling with rats almost everywhere. The only part that was free of them was the Ragged Flagon and its near vicinity.

To their surprise, the tavern itself was in peak condition, it was dry and well-maintained. The sconces on the walls and the chandelier hanging from the roof spread a warm, friendly light, there were carpets on the stone floor, and the tavern looked like a merry place altogether. A few members of the Guild were sitting at the tables with their drinks and talked business or gossips; sometimes, the two meant the same.

As Luc and Michele walked closer, a Nord neared them with a friendly smile on his face. He looked somewhere between thirty-five and forty and had a wild mane of brownish-red hair, which formed a stunning combination with his deep green eyes. He wore black leather armour, in the fashion that was the trademark of the Guild.

"Welcome to the Guild, my friends" he greeted the newcomers. "I'm Brynjolf, the Guild master. I'm glad you've arrived safely. Would you like a meal, perhaps?"

"Yeah, that sounds good" Michele nodded, and Luc didn't contradict. "I'm Michele, and my friend's Luc, by the way" he added when he realized they forgot to introduce themselves.

They occupied a table near to the bar, and after a Guild initiate served them their meals, Brynjolf went straight to business.

"I need your help" he admitted with a worried expression.

As Luc examined the Nord's face better, he spotted the signs of stress and exhaustion: there were dark circles under Brynjolf's eyes, he was pale, his posture was so tense even as he was sitting that it was painful to watch, and he looked miserably tired altogether.

"Before we've left, Astrid mentioned that you're having problems with the Imperial Guard" Luc said. "That's what you need help with?"

"Well, yes, in a way. It's been going on for a while by now, smaller fights between us and the guards here and there, that's why I asked Delvin to mention it in his last letter to Astrid, hoping that she has a bored, adventurous man or two to spare... But the situation's got much worse since that letter. The Imperials captured my right hand and one of my best friends two days ago. We have to get him out as soon as possible, anything else we might do can come after that. And make no mistake, bad things _will_ come after that."

"I see. Who's this 'right hand' of yours?" Michele asked, nibbling on a slice of bread.

"His name's Aeylis, he's a dark elf. He joined the Guild a few years ago, and we've become good friends quickly. I have to save him" Brynjolf explained, and his voice cracked a bit at the end of the sentence; he was truly worried for his friend, and the Dark Brotherhood could respect that.

"Right. Do you know where he's being held?"

"Below the jails, in the torture chamber. The jail's beneath Mistveil Keep. My spy could get the information out before he had to escape. I've got everything ready, we can do this tonight."

"Then we will. Those Imperial bastards don't joke around. If Aeylis is in the torture chamber, he must've gone through much already" Michele muttered.

"Thank you" Brynjolf smiled at them gratefully.

"You're welcome. But for Sithis' sake, go and get some sleep. You must rest before we do anything, you're no use to anyone like this" Luc added, but his tone was far from the rudeness of his words.

Brynjolf just nodded as a silent agreement and stood up to retreat. The assassins just looked after him with barely hidden concern. A Guild master on the verge of collapse was never a good thing.

*

Not long after midnight Luc, Michele and Brynjolf were crawling their way through the caves leading straight to the level of the jail. Fortunately, the Imperials haven't discovered the cave system yet, otherwise they'd have surely collapsed it already, just in case.

"The tunnel ends in one of the cells. Let's hope it's not occupied at the moment" Brynjolf said when they reached the hidden door at the end of the tunnel.

The Guild master opened it slowly, and they left the tunnel, closing the door carefully behind themselves. They arrived at the lower level of the jail, and fortunately, it was deserted at this late hour. In the cell to their left, Luc saw someone sleeping in the corner, and fortunately, the person didn't wake up to their arrival.

"There's a trapdoor in the backroom" Brynjolf whispered as he opened the cell door with a lockpick. "That leads to the torture chamber."

The others nodded and followed him out of the cell. They sneaked to the small room at the other end of the place and slid inside unnoticed. There wasn't anybody in the room and Brynjolf opened the trapdoor in mere seconds; nobody expected an attack on the torture chamber so the lock was awfully easy to pick.

They descended on the ladder and ended up in a huge room lit with trapped candlelight spheres on the walls; they were clearly magical and must've cost a fortune. The spheres emitted a sharp white light that made the details of the room uncomfortably clear. Luc saw cages, chains, racks with many various torture devices; and dried blood, so much blood, on the floor and the walls as well. In one of the corners stood a wide table with steel shackles at numerous places; there was blood on these as well.

"Hey, you okay? You look awfully pale" Michele commented when he glanced back at Luc.

"Yeah... just the lights" the younger assassin lied, although knowing that he wasn't too convincing.

Fortunately, Michele left it there. Luc swallowed hard, trying not to let his imagination run too wild about the horrors that must've happened here.

They found Aeylis in the next, smaller room. There were only torches next to the door so it was much darker than the main hall. The dark elf was chained to the wall by his wrists in a standing position. He was naked save for a ragged trouser, his head hung low as if he was unconscious. Long silver-white hair fell into his face, completely concealing it.

"Bloody hell!" Brynjolf cursed when in the semi-darkness he finally saw the terrible wound on the elf's body.

Aeylis' stomach was sliced open, some of his guts turned inside out; but he didn't bleed as much as could've been expected from such a horrible injury. Brynjolf got a very sick feeling, and when he went closer, it turned out he was right. A small needle in the elf's neck was covered with strong paralyzing poison. It made the heart beat much slower, thus preventing Aeylis from bleeding out.

"Is he...?" Luc asked, his face definitely a sick shade of green.

"Yes, he's still alive, just paralyzed. That's why he's barely bleeding" Brynjolf nodded, working on the chains to free the elf. "But we must be quick if we want to save him."

"Gods, he must be in a hell of a lot of pain" Michele whispered, helping the thief with the chains on Aeylis' other hand.

When done, they laid the elf down on his back. The poison's effect slowly began dissipating since Brynjolf removed the needle, and Aeylis stirred a little, however, he was still unconscious. The Guild master carefully pushed back the turned out intestines to their place then made the injured elf drink the healing potion he brought. With some help, Aeylis drank the potion, which instantly started healing him, but Brynjolf used his own healing spells as well to make the process faster. About a minute later, Aeylis was perfectly healed and completely woken; however, the memory of the pain and shock he'd suffered still lingered, and the elf screamed as he came to. Brynjolf quickly covered his mouth with his huge hand and held Aeylis while he slowly realized the situation and stopped writhing.

"It's over. You're safe now."

Aeylis took a few deep breaths and finally managed to focus on his boss. Luc was surprised when he saw that the elf's eyes were emerald green instead of the usual red of his species.

"Thank you..." he choked out and let Brynjolf help him up.

When he saw that the Guild master wasn't alone, he sent a tired smile in the direction of Luc and Michele as well.

"We should get the hell out of here" Michele said, looking around nervously. "I don't want to end up like that."

Luc supported the idea wholeheartedly, and Brynjolf knew that they were in no position to extract revenge just now, however much he wanted to murder everybody to death who was responsible for Aeylis' torture.

"Fine. Let's go!"

The way back to the Ragged Flagon was longer but fortunately, uneventful. Aeylis still had severe abdominal pains, however, it was just the phantom kind. His body remembered the torture he'd suffered and still tried to cope with it. When they were back in the tavern, Brynjolf gave him the strongest painkiller potion he had and sent him to rest.

"Thank you for your help" he then said to Luc and Michele. "I couldn't have got him out so easily without you."

"You're welcome" Michele nodded, trying to suppress a yawn. "And if you want, we'll help taking revenge for your friend, too."

Brynjolf's only answer was a cruel smile.


	7. Chapter 7

As it turned out, the Ragged Flagon had another huge hall just behind the tavern where the real Guild business was going on. There were the Guild master's office and bedroom, the dormitories, a training room, and even a small shrine to Nocturnal, the patron deity of thieves.

"You can use the tunnel starting here to get to the surface, there's the ladder" Brynjolf explained, pointing toward one of the side alcoves as he was leading Luc and Michele to one of the smaller bedrooms. "It ends in the garden of the Mara temple."

"And they know about it?" Michele asked.

"Do you think they dare do anything about it?" Brynjolf asked back with a cruel glint in his eyes; despite his altogether nice personality, when it came to his friends or his job, he was a thief and a Guild master through and through.

"Right. Forget I ever asked" Michele grinned.

"Rest well. And... thank you again" Brynjolf said before leaving the assassins alone in their room.

Luc looked around in their accommodation; it wasn't as big as the dormitory rooms back in the Falkreath Sanctuary, but for the two of them, it seemed enough. For the place was exclusively for sleeping, a few candles were the only source of light, but Michele solved it with a candlelight spell so at least they saw where to put their clothes.

"Sweet dreams, brother" the older assassin said as they snuggled into their beds.

Luc couldn't hold back a smile.

"You, too" he sighed before falling asleep.

*

Brynjolf was about to retreat into his own room after checking one last time on Aeylis; after finding him in such a terrible condition back there, he still couldn't really believe that the elf was truly safe, here with them. _They're gonna so fucking pay for it_ , he promised to himself, and to Aeylis, as he was crossing the hall toward his room.

He was so lost in his vengeful thoughts that when he heard a noise from the ladder leading up to the temple garden, he almost literally jumped. Before he could've even thought about it consciously, his ebony daggers were already in his hands as he turned toward the alcove, tense and prepared for anything.

It crossed his mind that he behaved quite foolishly, for it wasn't unusual for the Guild members to use the tunnel in every possible time of the day, but the incident with Aeylis stressed him out so much that he was running purely on his instincts by now. And now his instincts signalled trouble incoming; quite literally, because not even a moment passed when he heard a startled cry and right after that a body crashed into the floor hard.

Brynjolf was so surprised that for a while, he could only blink, baffled, but when the poor bastard groaned painfully and tried to get up, the Guild master remembered who he was and ran to help. That was when the next surprise came.

"Mercer?!" he gasped, but then just hugged the other tight, which resulted in another painful cry. "Sorry, sorry! What's wrong? What hurts?"

The guy named Mercer, a Breton with messy, slightly greying brown hair and hazel eyes, just gasped for air and doubled over in obvious pain. Brynjolf, however tired he was, reached again for his limited magic and tried to ease Mercer's pain.

"Better?" he asked when the other stopped shivering and could finally focus on him.

The fact that in just a few hours of time, he had to treat two injured Guild members made Brynjolf even more upset than he already was.

"When did you get back? What happened to you?" he asked as he helped Mercer up and supported him to his old room.

Mercer Frey was Brynjolf's predecessor as Guild master, but almost a year ago, all of a sudden, he claimed that he had to get done something very important, and left the Guild to Brynjolf to lead. In private, he confessed to the Nord that he wasn't sure he would or could ever come back but left nonetheless. Brynjolf never stopped thinking about that odd behaviour of Mercer and hoped against hope that his friend would beat the odds and find his way back home one day.

And now here he was, and his injuries told the tale of an obvious assault: bruises, fractured and broken bones, a bad case of black eye. Brynjolf doubted that the Imperials did this to him, Mercer was way too good of a fighter for any guard; which meant they had another problem beside them.

 _Great... just what we need_ , the Nord thought as he searched for a healing potion.

Mercer sat on the bed, still pale and weak from the pain, and it seemed he was trying really hard not to pass out. He gripped the edge of the bed so hard his fingers had gone white, and he began shivering again, this time probably because of exhaustion. Brynjolf crouched down before him and smoothed the messy strands from his damp forehead.

"It's okay, you'll be better soon. Drink this" he said, and for once, Mercer obeyed without any contradiction; normally, he didn't really like when Brynjolf was too motherly toward him, he felt it utterly embarrassing.

"I literally just got back..." he answered Brynjolf's earlier question when the potion took effect and he could finally think past the pain wrecking his body. "And some batshit-crazy Nord bitch... she attacked me. I'm telling you, Bryn, she was absolutely batshit-crazy."

"And insanely powerful, too, it seems. She trashed you thoroughly. She told you her name by any chance?"

"Nah" Mercer shook his head as he got rid of his Guild armour, still moving with some difficulty; the potion wasn't enough to fully heal him, but Brynjolf knew that after a long sleep, the Breton would be strong enough to heal himself.

Mercer was always the Guild's strongest magic user, and that was one of the reasons he could hold his position so surely back then. The elf ancestry of his people was quite obvious in him, both in his magical powers and his appearance: he was slender, fast, and very light on his feet; immensely useful assets for a thief.

"What did I miss?" he asked, but it sounded pretty half-hearted, even for himself.

"I'll tell you after you got some rest. You need it. Sweet dreams, wizard thief!" Brynjolf grinned, leaving the room before Mercer could've thrown something at him, thus not seeing the tired smile on his friend's face as he collapsed on the bed, asleep in mere seconds.


	8. Chapter 8

The next day, when most of the Guild members were back at the Ragged Flagon and its near vicinity, Brynjolf called a meeting in the bar. Everybody was there who was important: Aeylis, Vekel, Delvin, Vex, Sapphire, Tonilia... Brynjolf even invited their two Dark Brotherhood guests.

"I hope you don't want to try your newest scam speech on us, Bryn" Vex said, and she was just partly joking; sometimes Brynjolf did put up an ad hoc test show of his infamous market-speech that may or may not involved selling completely made-up and useless potions to gullible morons.

The Guild master simply found it funny how many idiots roamed the streets of Riften that he could rip off without the slightest of remorse. He used the income to acquire and provide actual healing and curing potions for the Guild.

"I'm still working on the new one so you have nothing to worry about now" Brynjolf answered, and the others noticed that he seemed quite cheery, despite their recent conflicts and incidents with the guards in the city.

"Just what are you smiling 'bout, eh?" Delvin asked, and the others murmured in agreement; Brynjolf's merry attitude felt a bit out of place, especially after what happened to his second-in-command, Aeylis.

In that moment, someone coming from the Ratway reached the tavern, however, he stopped hesitantly near the 'entrance'; which was merely a wooden pole with the Flagon's sign on it, at the end of the plank crossing the cistern. The Guild members turned and stared at the newcomer as if they were seeing a ghost.

"Hi" Mercer choked out, and he just wanted everyone to look at anything but him; their intent gaze made him nervous, to say the least.

Vex jerked out of her stupor first, jumped up and ran to him. Mercer thought that she'd whack him stupid, that would have definitely been her, but to everyone's surprise, she just wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tight; he was happy that after waking up, his first thing to do was to heal his remaining bruises.

"It's good to see you, too" he muttered, returning the embrace.

"Just where the actual flying fuck have you been?" Vex asked when she let him go and they walked to the bar.

Mercer endured a few more hugs and greetings from Aeylis, Delvin and the others then settled on a free table, cradling a cup of wine like a lifeline. Brynjolf watched all of this with a content smile.

"I had to get something done. Family business" Mercer finally answered when Vex repeated her question. "It was messed up, but it's solved now. And I don't want to talk about it further."

"You leaving without even a damn word, that's messed up, lad!" Delvin claimed with narrowed eyes, but his tone wasn't hostile just concerned. "You could've ended up dead, without us to help and save your sorry ass. That's what friends are for. You just had to ask."

Mercer was clearly embarrassed, nervous, and if the rapid blinking was anything to go by, even moved.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause a problem... But that's why I told Brynjolf to take care of you in my stead."

"And he's doing a great job at this" Tonilia, the Guild's Redguard fence replied, earning an ear-to-ear grin from said certain redhead. "That's not even a question. Mercer, the problem is that you didn't trust us to help you when you needed it. Why did you think we wouldn't if you asked?"

"I just... I know I can trust you. I do trust you. It's just... I didn't want to drag you into my screwed up personal problems, I didn't want to endanger any of you. Sorry if it looked like I didn't give a damn about you." Mercer stubbornly stared at the floor, but when Tonilia stepped closer to him and took his hands, he slowly raised his head, meeting her stern but warm brown eyes.

"It's okay. But next time please do notify us before you run away to do something stupid. You'll need someone to get you out of it alive."

Mercer managed a shy smile and nodded.

"Now that we're over the heart-to-heart, someone just has to ask: Mercer, what's your plan?" Aeylis spoke up.

The dark elf looked much better than previous day, being clean and rested, but Brynjolf simply ordered him to stay put for a while, just in case. So Aeylis was dealing with the new recruits for the time being.

"My plan? What do you mean?" the Breton asked back, blinking confusedly.

"Do you want your old position back?" Brynjolf clarified.

Mercer shook his head quickly.

"It wouldn't make too much sense. I was away for almost a year, I know basically nothing about what's going on here right now, and Brynjolf is a capable leader. I won't fuck this up for personal ambitions. I'll be okay with any position you'd give me" he answered. "But... speaking about what's going on, why's the Brotherhood here?"

Luc and Michele stepped forward to introduce themselves, then Brynjolf informed Mercer of their most recent problems with the Imperial guard. When he mentioned Aeylis' torture, Mercer's eyes turned stone-cold and for a split second, tiny sparks ran over his fingers but he quickly snuffed them out.

"Still buzzing with energy?" Sapphire asked, trying to lift the mood some.

"Sorry" Mercer muttered, clasping his hands and dropping them into his lap.

His formal magical training was little and deficient, and it resulted in a deficit in his control over his magic as well. When, many years ago, he almost got himself and another Guild member killed on a job because of that, Delvin arranged an extended stay with the Dark Brotherhood for him, where Festus Krex and Babette taught him everything they could. It still wasn't perfect, but at least it was enough for Mercer and others around him to be safe. The fact that the Guild didn't throw him out after the incident, moreover, helped him to come over his difficulties sealed his loyalty to them for life.

"We'll deal with the Imperial scum soon enough" Brynjolf growled with a healthy dose of threats of horrible death in his voice. "But we have another problem as well. Mercer?"

"Someone attacked me when I arrived back, not far from the North Gate. It was a batshit-crazy woman, a Nord, I think. Do any of you know anything about her?" Mercer asked, looking over his friends.

"She was a big, blond brute, right? With a huge-ass warhammer?" Sapphire asked back, and Mercer nodded. "I saw her once in the Bee and Barb, I think she's got here not long ago."

"What's her name?" Brynjolf inquired, but Sapphire just shrugged.

"I wasn't interested in her that much. Now, however... I'll try and find out everything about her so we can get rid of her as soon as possible" she promised and got up to make good of her word. "See ya!"

"Then I think that's it... We have to wait 'till Sapphire comes back" Brynjolf sighed, and the others began disappearing one by one as well.


	9. Chapter 9

The next two days were relatively peaceful in the Guild, however, out of worry, and perhaps a bit of overprotectiveness, Brynjolf kept an eye on Aeylis, and the other one on Mercer, just in case. After the torture of his second-in-command, Brynjolf felt cold dread even by the mere thought of it happening again to any of his friends. They needed to end this fight with the guards, once and for all.

"Have you seen Mercer? Or Vex, for that matter" he asked Delvin as he stepped into the Cistern from the Flagon.

Delvin was busy cleaning his daggers, sitting on a table, but he nodded toward a small alcove as a response to the Guild master's question. Brynjolf looked at the indicated direction, and he couldn't stop the smile spreading on his face.

The cosy, more or less separated alcove was Vex's favourite sleeping place, she declared it hers almost as soon as she got into the Guild. Now, however, she wasn't alone. Mercer sprawled on the bed, with Vex curled at his side and resting her head on his chest. Both of them were fast asleep.

"They were out the whole night, doin' some jobs" Delvin explained, and Brynjolf noticed the barely hidden envy in his voice; it was an open secret that Delvin would've liked Vex to be more than his friend. "Money's in your office."

Brynjolf suppressed a sigh and just patted the other's shoulder friendly.

"Sorry, Delvin" he said, trying to offer some comfort.

"Nah, it's alright... I just want her to be happy. And him, too" Delvin shrugged with a sad smile, casting a longing glance at the sleeping pair.

If he wanted to be honest, to Brynjolf, they looked like they just collapsed on the nearest bed after a long, hardworking night, not caring at all that it happened to be the same bed for both of them. But even if they did care... it was their business and theirs only. Brynjolf wasn't the kind of Guild master who wanted to control every aspect of his people's life.

However, he couldn't overthink it any longer; in the next minute, Sapphire strode across the Cistern, heading straight toward Brynjolf.

"I have the information about the Nord bitch" she said without any pleasantries.

"Go on" Brynjolf nodded, crossing his arms on his chest.

"Name's Mjoll, and apparently, she has a personal vendetta against the Guild. As much as I could dig it up, it's because her guy owed the Guild a pretty huge sum of money, but because he couldn't pay, he... well, let's say conveniently disappeared."

"When was that?" Delvin asked, trying to search his memories about the incident.

"A few years back, maybe?" Sapphire shrugged. "Perhaps Mercer knows more, he was the Guild master at the time, after all. And Mjoll beat the shit out of him, not any of us. However, I think she would, rather sooner than later."

"Great... and any idea about how to get rid of her? Any weakness?"

"Well, she's a Nord, and a frikkin' brute at that. I think she'd understand from a display of power. You should beat the shit out of her."

Normally, Brynjolf was absolutely against hurting women, but he knew too damn well that he wouldn't let the incident with Mercer slide.

"Mercer could've died of that beating. She has to pay for it, with her blood" Delvin muttered with narrowed eyes; apparently, he wasn't against hurting that particular woman.

"Tell everyone to meet me in the Flagon in half an hour. We'll make that decision together" Brynjolf said then turned away to leave.

*

Half an hour later, the Guild plus the two Brotherhood members were gathering in the Flagon, much like they did two days ago. Many of them cradled a drink, Mercer was sipping a hot cup of soup Vekel gave him when he heard him muttering about being hungry, and Luc was munching on a sweetroll.

"I think I'm starting to like this place" Michele said as he looked around the tavern.

Luc just nodded, blissfully happy with his sweetroll. Michele just shook his head with a fond half-smile.

A minute later Brynjolf stood up and asked for their attention. This time no one asked him about his speech, everyone knew that it was serious. The Guild master told them everything he learnt from Sapphire.

"Mercer, by any chance, do you remember that guy?" he asked, but Mercer just shrugged uncertainly.

He and Vex were sitting on a table, their legs and shoulders touching, but they didn't seem to be bothered by that; however, they weren't overly affectionate with each other, either.

"It sounds familiar, yeah, but... sorry, I can't remember the name or anything."

Brynjolf sighed.

"It's alright. So, what do we do with that crazy Nord?"

There was silence for a while. One of the core tenets of the Guild was that no murder as long as they had any other choice to solve the problem. Now, however, Brynjolf saw on more than one face that murder was an option for them.

"A word, if I may?" Michele spoke up, obviously sensing the tension and deciphering the expression on Mercer's face.

"Sure. Go on" Brynjolf nodded.

"Perhaps we can solve this problem for you. If you give us a contract on Mjoll, we'll take care of her for you. Astrid sent us to help you, after all" the assassin said, glancing at Luc to see if his brother agreed to it.

"All you have to do is ask" Luc added.

Brynjolf was silent for a moment, looking over the others. Sapphire and Mercer looked like they would be more than happy to ask, and from Vex's supportive squeeze on Mercer's hand, it wasn't too hard to guess her opinion, either. Brynjolf himself wanted to deal with that problem in a decisive, final way, too, but he wasn't going to do that alone, above everyone else's head.

"Who wants her dead?" he asked, and only Vekel, Tonilia and Delvin were against murdering Mjoll to death. "It's settled, then. Michele, Luc, you have your contract."

**Author's Note:**

> My character Luc is based on the French bard Luc Arbogast, if you want to know how he looks like, just search him in Google... or, here you go, a fanart: https://www.deviantart.com/slightlymadart/art/Luc-Arbogast-710720341. It's fantastic, and unfortunately, not mine. And check him on YouTube, too, he makes such great music.


End file.
